


All is safely gathered in

by randomdestielfangirl



Series: Season 12 coda fics [6]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Episode: s12e06 Celebrating the Life of Asa Fox, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, M/M, POV Mary Winchester, POV Outsider, Post-Episode: s12e06 Celebrating the Life of Asa Fox, Season/Series 12, Thanksgiving Dinner
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-25
Updated: 2016-11-25
Packaged: 2018-09-02 03:40:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8650066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/randomdestielfangirl/pseuds/randomdestielfangirl
Summary: “Cas is coming too.” Sam says, “Dean’s pretty excited about that.”It’s a neutral sounding statement— Sam’s always measured with his words, but Mary takes it for what it is supposed to mean. Her stay at the bunker was short, but she has noticed that Dean tends to gravitate towards Castiel like a sunflower in bloom. If Castiel is around, Dean’s focus won’t be completely on her, the weight of his expectations not unbearably heavy on her shoulders.“Okay.” she says.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not American, have never celebrated Thanksgiving and I'm a vegetarian, so I have literally no clue if the dinner I wrote is plausible or not. Also, Un beta-d.
> 
> Happy Thanksgiving, all of you!

It’s a balmy, sunny morning when Mary gets the call from her younger son. Sam’s voice is gentle as he asks her politely what she’s planning for Thanksgiving.

Mary has _not_ thought of anything— the appropriate thing would be to say she was planning on seeing the boys, but she is too tired of everything to lie. Asa’s funeral and the horrific events afterwards had left her shaken and she had spent the ensuing weeks driving, searching for old connections halfheartedly. Everyone was dead. She still had a lot more people to look for, but she shuddered to think about when she hit the end of her list with no luck. Or worse still, alive but changed irrevocably.

“I wasn’t really planning on anything.” she answers.

“Dean and I would really like you to come over for the day, mom. Dean’s planning on cooking a whole spread and it’ll be lovely to have a meal together.” Sam says evenly.

Mary thinks about it. If she has to be honest, she’s a little nervous about facing Dean again.

They went out for breakfast after Asa's funeral, along with Jody, but Dean was closed off and careful with his speech. It was excruciatingly awkward, with Jody and Sam making most of the conversation while Dean constantly fiddled with his phone. Mary had not spoken much either, but she had found herself relaxing involuntarily when Dean got a phone call and rushed outside to take it. Jody’s eyes had flicked to her face at that, but she didn’t say anything. Sam had smiled warmly at her before he and Jody resumed their conversation, drawing her into it gently. Dean’s conversation was long enough for her to start to enjoy herself and when he did return, there was a smile on his face.

“Cas is coming too.” Sam says, “Dean’s pretty excited about that.”

It’s a neutral sounding statement— Sam’s always measured with his words, but Mary takes it for what it is supposed to mean. Her stay at the bunker was short, but she has noticed that Dean tends to gravitate towards Castiel like a sunflower in bloom. If Castiel is around, Dean’s focus won’t be completely on her, the weight of his expectations not unbearably heavy on her shoulders.

“Okay.” she says.

“Awesome!” Sam says, delight creeping in. “Dinner’s at five, but try and come as early as you can, okay?”

“I’ll be there.”

+

It’s mid-morning by the time she arrives at the bunker. She takes a deep breath before she knocks, the impulse to flee almost overpowering. Sam opens the door, his smiling face soothing her anxiety. She tentatively smiles back as his huge frame envelops hers in an embrace.

“Come on in mom.” Sam says and steps aside to let her in.

She hates the bunker. With its huge empty spaces, the lack of sunlight, the dungeon-like quality of the rooms, the weapons decorating the walls. The way she can’t even pretend it is not exactly what it is— a base between hunts. Every step feels like it is suffocating her and Mary shuts her eyes and thinks about her home, the house in Lawrence that she was in only a couple of months ago. The one that held her family.

She jumps as Sam’s arm grips her shoulders gently as he steers her to the kitchen. His expression is placid and Mary finds herself breathing in deeply. One day. She can manage a day.

The kitchen is a fragrant, chaotic mess. There’s a pot of something that smells like Mushroom soup bubbling on the stove, a turkey roasting in the oven and a large bowl on the middle of the dining table, covered with Saran wrap. Castiel is mashing potatoes in a large green ceramic bowl, his dress shirt rolled up to the elbow. Dean is standing at the stove frying up some onions next to Castiel, laughing at something as Mary enters. He smiles widely at her, but doesn’t make a move to hug her. Mary doesn’t know if she’s disappointed or not.

“Hello Mary.” Castiel greets her, his voice soft. “I trust you’ve been well?”

“I’ve been okay Castiel, thank you.” she says, trying to smile. “Everything smells really good! Anything I can do to help?”

“Nah mom, you must have driven quite a bit.” Dean says, waving her toward the kitchen chair. “Sit down and relax for a bit. Did you eat? I can make you a frittata. Or there are muffins from breakfast.”

“Thanks Dean, I’d love a muffin.” she says, smiling her thanks as Dean places a plate in front of her. The sharply sweet smell of fried onions fills the air as Dean puts them aside in a plate.  

“Hot apple cider?” Sam asks her, “I just made some.”

“And the only thing you’re going to make today.” Dean states from the sink, where he’s draining the green beans.

“You let Cas help you.” Sam sneers, pouring out the cider.

“Cas listens to what I say.” Dean says, patting the angel’s shoulder. “And doesn’t knock things about with his gargantuan limbs.”   

Sam glares at him, but with no real heat, grabbing a muffin and stuffing it whole into his mouth.  

“This is really good Sam.” Mary says and Sam turns to her with a wide smile. “And I love the muffins too.”

Dean preens a little and begins assembling the casserole in the dish.

“What are we having today?” Mary asks him, smiling at the look of utter concentration on his face.

“Well... Turkey, obviously. Cornbread stuffing. I’m making those fancy Parker House rolls and buttermilk-cheddar biscuits. And whiskey-glazed carrots. And this green bean casserole.” Dean gestures to the dish. “Cas’s making mashed potatoes. And I made apple pie for dessert.”

“That’s... amazing, Dean.” Mary says, impressed. “John would have been so proud of you. He used to love Thanksgiving dinner with all the trimmings”

Dean says nothing, his hands trembling a little as he layers the onions. Castiel murmurs something about Dean needing to check on the turkey, his hand resting on Dean’s back for a moment.

“I didn’t know dad was the Thanksgiving-y type.” Sam says, drawing her attention.

“Our first Thanksgiving together was a disaster.” she says, turning to Sam. “I wanted to make this big dinner and John and I shopped together for the ingredients. I got a recipe book from the library and we started cooking in the morning and almost _everything_ went wrong. The rolls were too hard, the potatoes were too lumpy. And I set the turkey on fire.”

Sam starts laughing, his head thrown back. Dean snorts, placing the casserole in the oven as well.

“That does sound disastrous.” Castiel says and smiles at her. He hands his bowl of potatoes to Dean.

“John put out the fire, but the oven was ruined. We gave up, threw the mess out and had sandwiches for dinner. Never again, though.”

+

Dinner goes surprisingly well. Mary finds herself getting to know her children a little more as they reminisce fondly about past Thanksgivings, mostly spent on the road. Dean’s cooking is astoundingly good and he blushes red with pleasure when Mary compliments him. They eat dessert while watching an old movie and Mary offers to clean up the kitchen and do the dishes afterward. Dean protests weakly, but she insists.

Sam joins her and they pack up the leftovers into containers before Mary settles down to wash the dishes. Sam putters about, sweeping the floor and spray cleaning the counters. He doesn’t ask her where she’s been, nor does he ask her if she’s going to stay. Mary smiles up at him and he begins to dry the dishes.

She loves her children equally, but she would be lying if she said she didn’t prefer Sam’s company about Dean’s. It’s an awful thing for any parent to admit, but Sam has been so accepting. He expects nothing of her, he has no memories of her and so he’s not disappointed. With Dean, she’s constantly on edge, because she keeps inadvertently hurting him by not being the mother he thinks she was. With Sam, she can talk about John and the babies (her babies, the ones she left behind) and not feel guilty. Sam understands, and he lets her grieve at her own pace.

“Stay the night, mom?” he asks her as they finish up, kissing her lightly on the cheek. “It’s really late.”

“Okay.”

+

Sam bids her goodnight and retreats to his room, but she’s not sleepy. She takes a book from the library and heads to her room, pausing at Dean’s bedroom. The door is not fully closed, so she tentatively pushes it open and immediately wishes she had not.

Castiel is sitting on the bed, book in his hands, his bare feet stretched out on the comforter. Dean is sprawled next to him, his head in the other man’s lap. Mary flushes a little and backs away, but Castiel smiles at her and puts a finger to his lips, indicating that Dean’s asleep.

“I just wanted to say good night.” she whispers and begins to turn away.

“Are you feeling all right?”

She sighs as she faces Castiel.

“I’m not.”

The angel looks sympathetic and gestures to the chair beside Dean’s bed. Mary sinks into it.

“I know I’m hurting them.” she says. “But I can’t— I can’t stay here. And Dean— I don’t think he can forgive me for this.”

Castiel closes his book and places it on the nightstand. His hand is stroking absently through Dean’s hair.

“He’ll forgive you.” he says slowly. “Dean has extraordinary amounts of mercy. After everything I’ve done he still—” he fidgets a little and continues. “He’s understandably hurt, but he still loves you very much.”

“You— have you ever disappointed him?” Mary asks him.

Castiel looks sad as he looks down at Dean’s sleeping face, tuned towards Castiel’s stomach. Mary can just see the curve of his cheek, the hand that’s fisted in the white cotton of Castiel’s shirt.

“More often that you can count.”

“I’m sorry.” Mary says, standing up to leave.

“Take your time.” Castiel says, sighing. “And come back to them. They need you.”

“I’ll try.” she says, turning back at the door to glance at her sleeping son one more time.

“I’ll watch over him.” Castiel says, a small smile on his face. “Sleep well.” 

“Thank you.”   

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on tumblr at
> 
> randomdestielfangirl.tumblr.com


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